Shapshots
by Raj Sound
Summary: It wasn't fair. No one would ever know what she did for them. That she chose, willingly, to bleed out on a bathroom floor, angry, afraid, and alone. It wasn't fair…and I couldn't let it happen. (Formerly a oneshot, now a series of shorts, please review!)
1. Butterfly

**Author's Note: Special thanks to lifeisfineandnothinghurts on tumblr for providing the inspiration for this story. You are hella awesome!**

* * *

The storm. The fucking storm. I'd lived through it more times than I could count. Each vision felt so real, the wind and rain beating me down, chilling me to the core. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the wonderful, flawed, blue haired beauty in front of me, and the solution on offer. One for the many. Chloe Price for the world.

"Max, you finally came back to me this week, and you did nothing but show me your love and friendship. You made me smile and laugh, like I haven't done in years," Chloe choked. I blinked through the tears and the rain, the ragged burning in throat rendering me mute.

"Wherever I end up after this… in whatever reality…all those moments between us were real, and they'll always be ours," she insisted, grabbing me by the shoulders. "No matter what you choose, I know you'll make the right decision."

"Chloe…" I cried. "I can't make this choice…"

"No Max. You're the only one who can," Chloe replied solemnly.

And there it was. All roads leading to this. Every decision, big and small, dragging me kicking and screaming to this one final choice. Sacrifice Chloe. Sacrifice Arcadia Bay.

I did the only thing I could do. I'd regret it for the rest of my life. I would never, ever be able to forgive myself. But it's what Chloe wanted, what I would want in her place. I just had to see it through.

"Max…it's time…" Chloe prodded gently.

"Chloe… I'm so, so sorry… I… I don't want to do this," I choked. My chest ached, the cold and the rain seemed far away, drowned out by the sound of my heart shattering in my ears.

"I know, Max. But we have to. We have to save everybody, okay? And you'll make those fuckers pay for what they did to Rachel," she nodded with grim determination.

I stared into her eyes, lightning illuminating her features like a camera flash. I silently begged any gods that might be listening to spare her, to spare us, but no one answered.

"Being together this week… it was the best farewell gift I could have hoped for. You're my hero, Max," Chloe said with love.

This was my last chance. I moved in slowly, gently cupping my face in her hands. I closed my eyes and kissed her, softly at first, pouring out all of my love and affection. The storm raged around us, threatening to tear the fabric of reality itself apart. But for one short glorious moment, we were at peace.

We broke apart slowly, and far too soon. "I'll always love you…" Chloe promised with a sob. "Now, get out of here, please! Do it before I freak…"

"And Max Caulfield?" she added, her eyes blazing. "Don't you forget about me…"

Her last words shook through me. I'd take them to my grave.

"Never," I whispered.

The photograph blurred in the rain and tears, but the blue butterfly came into focus all too soon. I felt the sinking feeling in my stomach as I fell through time and space, a flash of light banishing the world around me.

The bathroom. The bucket. The butterfly. The end. I stared at the photo for a moment before letting it fall to the floor. I remembered something Warren told me about a butterfly flapping its wings. I hoped I never saw one again.

I peeked around the stall, leaning back as the door opened, right on schedule. My heart sank. I almost lost it right away.

"It's cool Nathan. Don't stress. You're ok bro… Just count to three…don't be scared. You own this school! If I wanted, I could blow it up. You're the boss," the panicked and disturbed boy muttered to himself.

I cringed when I heard the door open a second time. "So what do you want?" Nathan demanded.

"I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say. Now, let's talk bidness," Chloe announced cockily. _Oh Chloe…_

"I got nothing for you," Nathan seethed.

"Wrong. You got hella cash," Chloe insisted.

"You don't know who the fuck I am, or who you're messing around with!" he yelled. I sunk to the floor, digging my fingers into my scalp, trying desperately to block it out.

"Where did you get that? What are you doing? C'mon, put that thing down!" Chloe pleaded.

"Don't EVER tell me what to do. I'm so SICK of people trying to control me!" Nathan roared.

"You are gonna get in hella more trouble for this than drugs," Chloe warned. The cockiness was fading fast, fear creeping into her voice. _Not like this. Not like this._

"Nobody would ever even miss your punk ass would they?" Nathan sneered.

That was the last straw. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair. No one would ever know what she did for them. That Chloe chose, willingly, to bleed out on a bathroom floor, angry, alone, and afraid. It wasn't fair…and I couldn't let it happen.

 _I'm sorry Chloe, but this, this is the right decision._

"Get that gun away from me psycho!" Chloe screamed.

"NO!"

The shot rang out, echoing through the ceramic tile. A flash of light blinded me for a moment. I saw the two of them, staring at me, confused and horrified. For a second, I thought I frozen time again. But the lance of white hot pain radiated from my side, not my head. I felt a hot, sticky dampness spread through my shirt. The world shifted out of focus as I fell to the ground.

I watched the blue butterfly flutter away from the ceramic sink. _It's better this way._ Maybe the universe finally got what it wanted. Maybe…maybe this was what was supposed to happen all along.

"Max? Max!" Chloe screamed, her voice seeming strangely far away. Everything started to get dark and cold.

 _I love you Chloe._

* * *

Apparently the afterlife beeps. No one ever mentioned that part. I didn't really believe in God or anything, but I hoped that somehow I'd see Chloe again. I didn't expect to see her so soon. She was lying next to me, her blue hair spilling out of her beanie onto the blanket. Blanket. Beeping. Not dead. Hospital.

"Chloe…" I murmured hoarsely. My side ached and my throat was dry.

"Whoa. Hey you," Chloe said sleepily, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. "Look who finally decided to wake up."

"You're here. You're alive," I beamed. I felt warm for the first time in days.

"Thanks to you. Hella crazy reunion. Super Max saves the day," Chloe said in awe.

"Same old Chloe. That's good," I replied.

An unwelcome thought crossed my mind. She didn't know. She thought that I left her. I did leave her. I had to tell her, had to make her understand. "Chloe, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I never…" I started, trying to explain.

"Max, it's ok. It doesn't matter anymore," Chloe insisted. "You fucking took a bullet for me. I'd say that about makes us even."

"I would have done anything to see you again. This…it's more than I ever could have asked for," I said. Tears were forming in my eyes, but I didn't care. I was so grateful. So fucking grateful. I didn't bother mincing words or dancing around it. Chloe deserved to know how I felt about her.

"I love you Chloe."

Chloe blinked in shock. "Wow," she said, her cheeks turning bright red. "Damn, you don't waste any time, do you? I…I don't know what to say."

"It's ok," I said gently, taking her hand in mine. "We…have a lot of catching up to do."

"Definitely."

We sat there, grinning at each other like idiots. The grin faded from Chloe's face as she remembered something important. "Shit. I should call your folks. I promised I'd call them if you woke up while I was here," she muttered, fumbling for her phone.

Just like that, reality reared its ugly head. I sat up, cursing as fresh pain lanced through my abdomen. _Note to self: Don't ever let Chloe play with guns. Getting shot sucks._ "What day is it?" I asked.

"It's Friday."

"Friday?" Ice water flooded my vein. The afternoon sun shone brightly through the window, but it did last time too, until…

"Yeah. You've been out all week. Is everything ok?" Chloe asked, concerned as she watched me rapidly descend into a full blown panic attack.

"Has anything weird been happening?" I demanded.

"Other than you getting shot and that sick fuck of a teacher of getting arrested?" Chloe asked quizzically.

"No weird weather? No snow, no dead birds, or whales? Nothing like that?"

"No…," Chloe said slowly and carefully, as though she were talking to a crazy person. "Maybe they should check your dosage. You're tripping Maxi Pad."

The prickling sensation faded as relief washed over me. They were safe. Everyone was safe. Almost everyone, at least.

"The junkyard. Did they…did they find Rachel?" I asked quietly.

Chloe's face fell, anger and grief clouding her features. "Yeah…they did," she said quietly. "Nathan confessed to everything, including…"

I grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm so sorry Chloe."

"It's not your fault Max," Chloe said sadly. "I'm just glad Rachel will finally get some justice."

I closed my eyes, savoring the warmth of Chloe's fingertips. I wished I could spare her this, but it just wasn't possible. There were limits to my power, and I had meddled enough for one lifetime.

Anger and grief gave way to confusion. Chloe stared at me, perplexed. "Wait a minute. You've been in the hospital all week. How did you know where they found her?" she asked.

"It's a long story." _Understatement of the century._ Still, I wasn't going to lie to Chloe. After everything she'd been through, would have been through, she deserved the truth. All of it.

"Max. Tell me everything."

And so, I told her the story of us. I told her of the visions, and turning back time. I told her of our reunion, and how we started to rebuild what we lost, what I threw away all those years ago. I told her how we searched for answers to all our questions. I told her about our adventures, goofing around in the junkyard, breaking into the school, putting the pieces together. Partners in crime and time.

I told her about Kate. Watching her fall, stopping time to save her from her despair.

I told her about Rachel. How desperately we tried to find her. How we finally did.

I told her about Chloe. Watching her die in the bathroom. On the railroad tracks. In a hospital bed. In the junk yard.

I told her about me. About the dark room and Jefferson. About going back, trying to fix things over and over again, only to have them break every time. About losing myself in time.

I told her about us. How we fell into back into our old friendship. How we kissed on a dare. How we faced the apocalypse, hand in hand. How we fell in love.

I told her she was my hero. How she begged me to go back, to let her go, to save people she thought were so much more deserving than herself.

I told her everything. I spared no detail. I hoped it was enough. "Chloe? Do you believe me?" I asked quietly.

The warm glow of the afternoon sun radiated through the entire room as it slowly faded into the horizon. The soft light cascaded around her features. She stared at me intently, as if she could see right through me.

"I do."

She leaned in slowly, carefully. She ran her fingers through my hair, looked me in the eye, as if to say, "Is this ok?" then carefully brushed her lips against mine. It was quick, almost chaste, but loving.

"So, where do we go from here?" I asked shyly.

"I dunno. Doesn't really seem fair. Here you've had all this time to fall madly in love with me and I'm just getting to know you again," Chloe teased.

I smiled back. "It's ok. We have time now."

* * *

It's hard to believe it's been seven years. Time flies when you're having fun, especially when it's with the girl of your dreams. Chloe and I traveled the world together, or at least as much of it as we could on our modest budget.

Naturally I took plenty of photos. What started out as a small collection of shared selfie's evolved into a tapestry that threatened to take over the whole damn house. Every available inch of wall space contained a memory captured in film.

I looked around the room, smiling fondly at the memories these photos evoked. Not all of them were of the two of us and not all of them were happy, but those memories were important nonetheless. Old friends, bitter tragedies, loved ones lost to time and fate. I treasured them all.

Kate Telle, the artist formerly known as Kate Marsh, teaches art at Blackwell, as well as illustrating children's books. She married shortly after college, and is just a few months away from giving birth to a baby girl. We still meet for tea sometimes.

Warren Graham went on to get his doctorate in organic chemistry. He works at NASA. He is literally a rocket scientist. One day he hopes to boldly go where no man has gone before. Chloe still calls him Waldo.

Victoria Chase kind of fell off my radar. We became friendlier over time, something of a playful rivalry, but we were never close and lost contact after we graduated. I heard she moved to France. I did see pictures of her at the Louvre online. So jealous.

Joyce Madsen is still at the Two Whales. What can I say? She's happy. She and Chloe are getting along a lot better too. I like to think I helped. Having her nearby is kind of like having a second mom, which has its benefits as well as its drawbacks. Still, can't beat those waffles.

David Madsen, who is now known by David instead of step-douche, eventually learned how to let go of his anger and deal with his frustrations productively. Sort of. Chloe caught him sampling her herbal remedies once, a fact she gives him shit for at every available opportunity. Baby steps.

Nathan Prescott was still in treatment in a psychiatric hospital, on the state's dime now that the Prescott estate is in ruin. Two hundred years of misdeeds finally caught up with them. I doubt either of us can ever forgive him, but the anger is gone, and that's a start.

Mark Jefferson was convicted of multiple counts of kidnapping, second degree mused, and a litany of lesser charges. He will spend the rest of his life in prison. It's better than what he deserves, but it's enough.

Frank Bowers skipped town after Rachel's funeral, the memories of Arcadia Bay, and his undeniable part in her death too much for him to bear. I don't know what happened to him after that, but I hope he found some peace.

Rachel Amber was finally laid to rest, her friends and loved ones finally getting the closure they deserved. I held Chloe's hand while she said goodbye, shedding my own tears alongside her as she mourned her angel.

Chloe Price finally got her shit together, determined to, "Earn this." She got her GED, even gave college a try, but it just wasn't her thing. Her mild interest in art bloomed into a passion, choosing the human canvas as her preferred medium. I even let her tattoo a blue butterfly on my wrist, leaving her mark as it were. It hurt like a hell, but she's totally worth it.

Little did I know, Chloe was quietly sneaking up behind me during my self-indulgent trip down memory lane. She wrapped her arms around me as I admired an older photo. It was of the two of us in the hospital, the day I was released. We were both flexing for some reason, Chloe in her typical punk attire and me in my hospital gown. We looked like idiots, but we're alive and happy and that's worth everything.

"That's a good one," Chloe said warmly, kissing my neck.

"Yeah, it is," I replied. I turned my head and kissed her back, enjoying the random display of affection.

"So, you ready?" Chloe asked. She certainly was. Chloe Price in a dress was a rare sight, but she kept a little black dress on hand for special occasions. _Wowsers._

"As ready as I'll ever be," I sighed. As much as loved seeing Chloe get her sexy on, it came at a terrible price. Public speaking.

"Max, it's a gallery opening, not a colonoscopy," Chloe said dryly. Gross.

"You know I still get nervous at these things."

"That's what you have me around for. That, and eye candy," she said with a cocky grin.

And how. Accentuating her atypically feminine attire were locks of shoulder length blue hair. I went in the opposite direction, opting for a trip, professional look. Once I added the glasses, a fact that my increasing near-sightedness necessitated, I was officially dubbed, "sexy hipster librarian."

"That's what I love about you Chloe. You've always been so humble, so demure," I said with mock reverence.

"Ass," she replied, sticking out her tongue.

"Touche."

Truth be told, I actually managed to make something of myself in photography. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. It's mostly freelance work, but every now and then I'll get portfolio and gallery requests. It was my dream, and it's pretty damn amazing. Thing is, that's not even the best part.

The best part was when Chloe asked me to be her wife.

"So, are your parents coming?" my fiancée asked.

"Yeah," I replied nonchalantly. My parents were weirdly supportive. Go figure.

"You gonna tell them tonight?" Chloe asked, rubbing the small silver band on my finger.

"That's the plan."

"Awesome," Chloe said sarcastically. "Now it's my turn to be nervous."

"Why?" I asked, genuinely perplexed. "They love you."

"Dude, I'm pretty sure they still blame me for your quote, 'deviant lifestyle.'" Chloe replied, with exaggerated air quotes for emphasis.

I rolled my eyes at this. No, I can't say my parents were exactly thrilled when I told them I was a lesbian, but they've gotten over it for the most part. And they really do love Chloe, even if they occasionally question her judgement.

"I think their concerns have less to do with my sexuality and more to do with you getting arrested in Mexico. Twice," I deadpanned.

"That's...fair," Chloe conceded reluctantly.

"Besides, you weren't exactly nervous when you told Joyce," I added. If I remember correctly, her exact words were something to the effect of, _"Hey Mom, Max and I are getting married. Do you have any bacon?"_

"Dude, are you kidding? My mom has been nagging me to make an honest woman out of you for years. Even David said it was about time," she said incredulously.

"Weird. We're like, real adults now," I observed thoughtfully.

Chloe scoffed. "Speak for yourself, nerd," she chuckled, punching my shoulder affectionately.

We were always the best of friends, no matter what else we were. Girlfriends, lovers, soon-to-be wives, our friendship was the bedrock of all of it.

"Chloe?" I asked, taking her hands into my own.

"Yeah?"

"This. Me, you, us? It's more than I could have ever hoped for."

Chloe smiled, that bright, beautiful Chloe smile. No photo would ever do it justice. "Me too. I love you Max. I'll always love you."

"I love you too." We kissed again, deeply. She still made my heart race.

"You know, we don't have to be there for another half an hour," Chloe said suggestively, running her fingers up and down my waist.

"Chloe!" I said scandalously.

"I'm just saying. We can afford to be fashionably late," she argued.

I took very little convincing. "Twenty minutes."

Chloe grinned. "Race you to the bedroom."

"You're on!"

We sprinted into our bedroom, laughing as we tore off our pristine clothing. We ended up being about forty minutes late. Which was fine. After all, we have all the time in the world.


	2. Starlight

**Author's Note: Ok, this was totally going to be a one-shot, but what can I say? I freakin' love these girls. I've got a series of shorts planned. Please review, your feedback is Priceless. Yeah...I went there... Enjoy!**

* * *

Our first time was in the back of my old pickup truck. I know, doesn't exactly sound all that romantic. We didn't exactly plan it. I wanted it to happen, and Max did too, but all of this was new to her, and I didn't want to push it. I figured, when it felt right, for both of us, it would happen.

Technically we were there to look at the stars. We put a couple of blankets and pillows in the back of my pickup and set up camp at bottom of the hill near the lighthouse. We actually did look at the stars for a little while, trying to remember the names of them.

"I think that's Orion," Max said, pointing to some random cluster.

"I think that's Cassiopeia," I said, pointing to another.

"Really?" she asked.

"I have no idea."

Max chuckled, "We're not very good at this, are we?"

"Hey, this was your idea. I was cool with doing pizza and a movie," I retorted.

"Warren said it would be romantic," Max explained.

Oh Warren. Nice guy. Never stood a chance. He and Max were talking one day when I came to pick her up after school. I was feeling a little mischievous, and if I'm being honest, a little jealous, so I decided it was a good time to engage in a little showy PDA with my unsuspecting, but very willing girlfriend. Warren was weirdly ok with it. _Boys._

"I'll bet. Captain Friendzone could probably name all the constellations. 'There's Virgo. It symbolizes the fact that I'm not getting any!'" I said, my tone entirely too bitchy. _God Price, you are such an asshole._

"Probably. He's really smart. Talented too. But he's not the one I want to spend my evening with," Max said. She took my hand in hers, lifted it to her face and kissed it.

How does she do that? How does she take shit from me and just let it slide? Don't get me wrong, Max Caulfield is no doormat. She'll call me on my bullshit if I go too far, but for the most part she just lets it go. Sometimes I'll lose my shit, like when David does something douchey or whatever and she'll just look at me, like she's just so happy that I'm there with her that she doesn't care that I'm ranting like a lunatic.

"Besides," she added, kissing her way up my arm. "I wanted us to be alone tonight." She shifted towards me, kissing my shoulder, then my collar bone, then my neck.

"Damn Caulfield," I said, flustered. "You don't mess around." If there was one major difference between tween Max and present day Max, it was that she stopped being so chicken shit all the time and was actually honest about how she felt and what she wanted. This was the girl that told me she loved me within minutes of coming back from the dead.

All thoughts of stargazing were forgotten. I moved on top of her, kissing her jaw before catching her lips, eliciting that quiet little moan that inspired so many wicked thoughts. _God Max, do you have any idea what you do to me?_

I'd been with other people before. Rachel of course. She was my first, and the only one worth remembering. She was gentle and patient, and goddamn if I didn't fall in love with her that night.

That's how I wanted it to be for Max. So when I felt the cool air on my back as she tugged at the base of my shirt, I wanted to make sure she was ready.

"Are you sure?" I asked, taking a quick breather.

"Definitely," Max whispered.

I smiled, then pulled my shirt over my head. I unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time, kissing her stomach as I worked my way up.

I felt Max tense as I exposed her skin, the scar on her stomach catching the light. Max was hella self-conscious about it. She thought it was ugly, although I managed to coax a smile out of her when I told her it made her a, "certified badass."

To be honest, it freaked me out a bit too. Not like it was a turnoff or anything. It just scared me. I was so close, so fucking close to losing her forever, to never knowing what we were, what we could be.

Max Caulfied chose to die for me that day. For me. Burnout, fucked up, wannabe criminal Chloe Price. I never thought anyone would love me like that. I never thought anyone could love me like that.

"We can stop anytime you want to," I whispered, kissing her just above her left breast. "Just let me know if..."

"I trust you Chloe."

 _I trust you too._

I used to call bullshit on the whole notion of, "making love." After Rachel disappeared, there were a few others. Shit, I don't even remember their names. By that time, I stopped being worried and started getting angry. And when I got angry, I did stupid things.

I always had fun hanging out with skater guys, so I figured, why not bang a few? Worst idea ever. Of all the ways I acted out, that was probably the dumbest. Who fucks someone they're not even attracted to just to get back at someone? Seriously, who does that?

I never thought I would be this nervous. I tried not to show it, unzipping her jeans carefully, trying to keep my hands from shaking. Max helpfully lifted her hips, allowing me to slide them down easily. "Are you ready?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah," Max nodded shyly.

I slipped the remaining fabric barrier away. Seeing Max exposed like this, vulnerable, but trusting fucking took my breath away. I tried not to stare, not wanting to make her feel self-conscious, but my brain was caught in a feedback loop. _Are we really doing this? We're really doing this. Holy shit, we're really doing this!_

I touched her, gently, delicately. Max responded quickly. Her breathing quickened, she started to murmur and moan, whispering my name.

"Feel good," I asked.

"Oh God yes," she moaned. I grinned. One of the biggest perks of lesbian sex. Plenty of practice with the equipment. Not that my sexual experience was limited to solo performances.

Fuck, it was hard not to think about Rachel. If I had known back then what I know now. Shit, I don't know what I would have done. I still can't believe Rachel was fucking Frank. I can't wrap my head about it. Of all the crazy shit Max told me about, time travel, the tornado, all of it, Rachel Amber falling in love with Frank Bowers was the one thing I couldn't believe.

She was right of course. Max is always right. It's a gift, and a curse. Frank was at her funeral. I never saw him look so small, so broken, like the empty husk of what used to be a human being. The fact that he skipped town the same day, no mention of my debt, no effort to collect from any of his other customers, just gone without a trace. He really loved her. And…she loved him.

"Chloe," Max panted.

"Just relax Max. I've got you," I murmured, kissing her softly. "Just enjoy yourself."

"Is there…is there anything I can do for you?" she asked. "I want you to feel good too."

"I'm good. This is your time Max. Don't worry about me," I reassured her.

"I always worry about you."

I blinked, once, twice, and a few times after that. _Do not cry Chloe._

If I'm being honest, I know that Rachel didn't feel the same way I felt about her. We were friends that fooled around every now and then. That…that was all it was to her. We'd get high, we'd fuck, no big deal. Not for her anyway.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe Rachel was eighteen years old and didn't know what the fuck she wanted out of life. Maybe I was just too clingy and insecure and fucked up to handle it.

Maybe I'm not being fair to her. Maybe she loved me as much as she could. Maybe I should just be grateful for the time we had together. Maybe…maybe I should let her go.

"Chloe, I'm…" Max whimpered. She was close.

"I know. Just let go Max. Just let go."

Max came back to me. It took five years, a bullet, and fighting her way through time itself to get to me, but she came back. And in that time, she's shown me nothing but her love and her friendship. After all, she's still Max Caulfield. She's still this massive dork who says, "Are you cereal?" when she gets upset, gives as good as I get when I tease her, and snaps Polaroids at wildly inappropriate times.

She makes me smile in laugh like I haven't done in years. She loves me. I still can't believe how much she fucking loves me. I don't deserve it. Maybe some version of me, the one who was willing to die for the town I can't stand did, but I don't. But I want to.

I've been selfish, stupid, self-destructive, but I don't want to anymore. I want to be the person that Max sees when she looks at me. I want to be the girl she turned back time for.

"Chloe!" she cries, squeezing me tight. She's warm and sweaty and out of breath and the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Max..." _I love you so much._

"Wowser."

And just like that, I lose my shit. Goddamn, she's still Max Caulfield alright. I snort uncontrollably, cackling like a deranged fiend. Max starts giggling too, and even though the moment's been ruined, I'm totally ok with it and I know she is too. One of the benefits of falling in love with you best friend.

"I love you nerd," I say, kissing her once I can breathe again.

"I love you too."

We spent the rest of that evening in the back of my old pickup truck, looking at the stars, trying to guess their names, making them up as it suited us. I know, doesn't exactly sound all that romantic. Screw that. It was fucking perfect.


End file.
